Want
by Liberated Dragon
Summary: Yashamaru, in the end, didn't really know what his sister wanted.


Warning: Rated for violence. Sorry for any mistakes, I don't have a beta. 

Disclaimer: The anime Naruto does not belong to me. It belongs to Kishimoto Masashi. If I owned it, I would give in to my maternal instincts and give six-year old Gaara a big hug.

Want

She had screamed! She had pleaded! Dignity had not been a thought!

However, it had been useless, even with her brother struggling just outside the locked doors. Her husband had watched without a flicker of emotion as she had been strapped to the bed, her arms splayed out to the sides.

She had turned her pleading eyes to old Chiyo, who could only lower her eyes in shame. She had turned to the room, searching for a compassionate face, and screamed again as her eyes fell onto the kettle. She had once again struggled against her bonds trying to wiggle away as the cold metal was placed on the bed beside her swelling belly.

She had cried, begging as she heard her pleas echoed by her brother on the other side of the locked door.

But there had been no rescue for her or her unborn child. She could only shiver in terror and from the cold of the sand as it shifted over her body.

The creature had seemed like nothing more than fine dust shaken from the sand and suspended above her like a phantom. But its movements had betrayed its true nature, as it shifted and moved through the air, the sand trailing behind its path.

The old woman's seals and gestures had slowly directed the creature, till her thin-skinned hands had rested firmly on her round abdomen.

She had felt it move through her, like pebbles settling to the bottom of a pond. The lack of pain had not dissuaded her terror, as she felt it shift to her womb. She'd almost felt its cold grasp cling to her struggling child.

Yes, she had felt the babe move, as if trying to cringe from the cold. Her terrified mind had supplied images of a laughing maw forming from the dust to devour her defenseless child within the darkness of her once safe womb.

Afterwards, she had just been untied and left.

She had run at the beginning with the desperate hope that the sand could be outrun.

But, she would always tire and it would always catch up, to swirl around her protectively, terrifying those around her. So, she had wandered the halls, the streets, and the roofs of the village with a desolation so complete, that she felt empty; despite the growing life within.

But then, that life had grown silent. The babe had not moved quite so vigorously as before the sealing.

She had wondered if it was even a child anymore. Her angry mind had screamed visions of a horribly deformed thing. A monster that she hadn't wanted to imagine seeing the light of day.

She had cried in her brother's arms. He had listened, his face full of pain, his hands wrapped around her shaking form, while still avoiding touching the tightening skin around the demon.

In his arms, she had raged at the village, her husband, and especially the thing within her. How she had cursed it, hated it, and wanted so badly to remove it from her.

She hadn't wanted it!

Oh Gods, she didn't want it!

Now, she screamed again. This time lying in bed, with only the pain of being ripped open holding her down, as the sand tried to reach the emerging monster.

She screamed once more as the thing was taken from her body.

She was gasping for breath when she felt the creature placed beside her. She would have laughed if she weren't busy dying. They expected her to actually want to use what little strength she had left to hold it.

She cringed away from it, refusing to look at it. No, she didn't want to look at this hated thing. She wouldn't see what had been made from her child.

A whimper, filled with pain so much like her own, snapped her eyes open. She suddenly wished she hadn't opened them.

This was so much worse!

He was perfect! Beautiful!

Oh Gods, it would have been easier if he'd been a monster.

She felt tears run down her face as she stared at the child, and yes, there was no doubt he was a child.

A breath-taking child with blood-red hair and pale pain-filled jade eyes!

She reached out for him, pulling him into her tired, weakening arms. She sobbed as she curled around him pulling him close to her chest.

Oh, how she wished to take back every word she had ever said about not wanting him.

Oh Gods, oh dear Gods, how she wanted him!

Oh, how she wanted to keep him, stay with him!

Her sobs became ragged. She was going to leave him! She was going to die and leave her baby! Leave him alone!

She looked up at her husband, but her hope for her son was extinguished as soon as she looked at his cold impassive gaze. There would be no love there.

She scanned the room desperately for a compassionate face once again. But this time, their faces reflected the terror she had felt in the beginning. They cringed back to the walls, watching the sand lap around her and her son.

She wanted to scream at the fools.

He's just a baby! Don't leave him!

She glared at them again. And they all cringed back again, but this time from the look of pure hatred across her face. Her eyes scanned the room, from her husband to the attendants.

They did this! They were the ones who were cursing her son to a half-life, because what kind of life could it be with no love.

Her anger built to a crescendo as she turned her tired head toward her husband. He just stared at her like she was an insect to be squashed. She had served her purpose.

He only wanted a weapon.

He would need a loyal weapon that would follow directions. She sneered at the thought.

Why should her son be loyal to this… this monster?

Her son wasn't going to get any love from him. Then, her son was going to have to find love in another way. And if it made it more difficult for this monster to control him, she would delight in it. If it made these fools bemoan their cruel mistake, she would rejoice in it.

Her son's very presence would be punishment. The very creature they would make him be, would be a very fitting punishment. She smiled in vindictive satisfaction.

She lifted her head to look at her monster of a husband and with her last bit of strength.

"Gaara, his name is Gaara."

She rejoiced as his face wrinkled in rage, the meaning of the name sinking into his mind, 'Gaara, a demon that only loves himself'.

An unspoken curse.

She lowered her head to look one last time into her son's jade depths. She barely noticed when her eyes closed. The last thing she heard was screams and the sound of sliding sand.

Oh, how she wanted to stay with him!


End file.
